Humans are unique in how we see, process and interpret the world around us. My First Nations K/Gamilaroi ancestors had an amazing gift of foresight; to have one foot firmly planted in the present and the other well off into the future; to look at one thing “here”, and simultaneously see another “there”.
One day while walking around on country with my bubaadthi (mother’s brother), he would constantly look around the trees, point and say, “Son, do you see that barran [boomerang] up there?”. I would spend a few minutes foolishly looking in that direction for a literal boomerang, only to realise later that he was talking about a particular branch which had the perfect curvature to make a boomerang. He saw it not just in its present state, but could look at that branch and imagine it in its future potential state, too.
In the mainstream we call this “vision” or “potential”, and it applies in all kinds of environments – from schools to workplaces. It involves understanding the essence of a thing or a person, and setting a direction for future potential and self-discovery through supporting it to become what it can. A quote given to me by my elders in how they see and understand this process is: “What is, is what will be; and what will be, is what is.” This means that an object or subject is already what it will eventually become, although it exists in its present state in that particular form until it self-organises, evolves or is transformed into its eventual future state.
This is the seed within the fruit (present state) becoming the forest (future potential). It is the cloud (present state) becoming the river (future potential) after it rains.
To skip past the complexities regarding time and philosophy for the moment, this idea essentially proposes that one’s journey is already mapped out and that it is then the responsibility of that object or subject to take the necessary steps into becoming what it will, or what it is destined to be. Many cultures have words for this process. In Gamilaraay it is called “-gu” which can mean “with/for the purpose of”, in Arabic it is called “maktub”; meaning it is already written, and most North American native languages are said to reflect a perennial reality in the present.
How can we use this wisdom to improve our lives, regardless of our faith? In modern society, we know and utilise only part or a fragment of this idea; we have visions or strategies which give us goals to work towards, although we don’t often enough have the correct framework to move to the next stage of that process. It’s not as simple as just choosing any branch for a boomerang and saying, “This is your destiny now.” There are a number of other factors which provide context for the branch’s selection, transformation, purpose, distribution, the ongoing implications for its presence in the community and its eventual return back into the natural cycle of creation, which my elders would always account for.
This is because for First Nations peoples generally, decisions such as these are based in the “laws of country” and this is what drives the processes of temporary form and subsequent transformation within the greater cycles of the universe, along with the distribution or transference of matter and energy throughout space and time.
If the goal is to truly become what we are meant to be, whether collectively or individually, then “to see” or have some idea of what that is just isn’t enough. The seed who desires to become an orchard can’t hoard its nutrients, and it certainly can’t defy gravity. The cloud or its water molecules whose destiny it might be to become a life-sustaining river or waterhole cannot grow beyond its means or refuse its own dynamic properties.
Life and creation does not and never has functioned this way, and just as Indigenous elders such as mine have always known and continue to tell us today, it is our natural pattern and responsibility to take notice of our surroundings, then to envision, to be creative, and to evolve and transform with the land and all of creation. Admittedly, sometimes it’s hard to see the forest for the trees … but that’s OK. For now, you can come and stand beside me as I look around in there for that boomerang my bubaadthi was telling me about.
“It’s up there now, do you see it?”
• Joshua Waters is a First Nations K/Gamilaroi man, PhD student and senior research fellow with the school of humanities and social sciences at Deakin University
